Happy Happier Anniversary
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day 1414: The day was already going to be a complicated one for Ewan and for his aunt Shannon, but they have each other, and he has something to tell her about. - Beiste and Ewan series - Not Rory but Damian, see inside


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 67th cycle. Now cycle 68!_

* * *

**"Happy Happier Anniversary"  
Beiste & Ewan (OC; Damian McGinty)  
Beiste & Ewan series  
_(all series now listed under the communities tab in my profile)_  
**

He wasn't sure if his aunt would have remembered or realized what this day meant for him as it came nearer, but he should have known she would. The morning began, and she had made him breakfast. This wasn't special in and of itself, but it was the choice of foods that gave it away; she could sense he would be in his 'parent headspace.' Today was, or would have been, his father's birthday; it was also supposed to be his parents' wedding anniversary. He'd already been through his mother's would-be birthday and he couldn't imagine what this one would be like.

"You know, I always forgot about this double day," his aunt had admitted. "With your dad's birthday, and the anniversary."

"It was just sort of spontaneous," he explained.

"Yeah that sounds like Kathleen," Shannon smirked.

It had been a few weeks since his incident, his dive into the pool and his all too real dream. He hadn't told her about it, he hadn't told anyone actually, but now sitting here on this day, thinking about his father, about both of his parents, it got to be that he wanted to talk about it all.

"Aunt Shannon, you know when I fell in the pool that day?" he started.

"How could I forget?" Shannon shook her head. "You gave me one hell of a scare, kid."

"I think I died… or something. Only for a little while, but while I was under, I had this dream. It felt so real I didn't know for sure it was a dream at the start."

"What happened?" his aunt asked, looking at him.

"I was with them, my mom and dad. We were back in Ireland, and they'd never died. And then we came here to visit you. I came to the school, and no one knew me because I'd never come to it in this reality. But I still got to spend time with Sugar," he smiled at the thought of her. "Only then I felt guilty for not being with my parents when I finally could see them again. I got to talk to them. It was a dream, I know, but it felt just as good," he smiled once again, a different smile, for Kathleen and Glenn Healy.

It felt easier to talk about something like that, he knew. He didn't feel as protective about that, not the way he felt about this day. Back home, up to the year before, it was one of their greatest holidays, almost as good as Christmas. It would always be that, as there were three parts to this celebration and three of them in the family, everyone had their tasks. His father would put himself on feasting his wife on their anniversary, his mother would do the same for him in return, and then it was up to Ewan to make his father's birthday special. They would call it Happy Happier Anniversary.

The earliest recollection he had of that day was when he was four years old. He had spent all afternoon holed up in his room to make his father something. First he had drawn – with great care and detail, as great as he could at age four – a birthday card for him that was as tall as more than half of Ewan's height at the time. Then one of their neighbors, who regularly made clay things to paint and sell, had helped him make his father a cup. Ewan had specified that this cup was not for coffee, as most cups were. This one would be more special than that. It would be for his paint brushes, knowing how scattered his father could be when it came to those. How many days he'd seen him going around the house, seeking one of his brushes. The oddest place he'd ever recovered one was from on top of the refrigerator.

So with his fresh made cup, he'd sat in his neighbor's studio, and he had painted the thing he'd seen get shaped up from a clump into a cup. When the object was done and dry and everything it had to be, his neighbor had placed it in a box for him and helped him wrap it. Ewan had returned home, so very careful about not dropping the box, or letting his father see it.

Glenn had been so proud when he'd seen it, Ewan vaguely remembered him crying. From that day, the cup had held a place of honor in his work space, and while some brushes did get misplaced from time to time – old habits died hard – most of them had found a cozy home in the homemade cup.

Ewan had forgotten to bring it with him when he came to live with his aunt, but a few weeks after his arrival, he'd gotten a package. His neighbor – the one with the dogs, not the artist – had found it there in their home, remembered the story, and thought he would want to have it. The old cup, with the minimal but inevitable paint stains from over the years, now sat on his desk, holding his drawing pencils.

Remembering perhaps that there would be another wedding anniversary to celebrate in a short time, his aunt had come to ask him about her impending nuptials, to Rich Henley. She wanted to make sure he would be alright with it all. Rich's home was bigger than Shannon's apartment, already crowded now for her and Ewan and the dogs, so in a few days they were moving to the Henley house. The apartment was already getting bare, and what remained was mostly in boxes.

Ewan reminded his aunt that he wouldn't have been part of that surprise proposal if he didn't feel as enthusiastic about it as he did. He wanted her to be happy, and he knew that, with Rich, she would be. He also knew that, within a couple of years, he'd be moving again, to live on his own, as an adult. Mitch and him had already discussed being roommates when that time came. Knowing that she would have Rich, that she wouldn't be alone all over again, he couldn't have asked for more.

The Happy Happier Anniversary had not been as painful as he'd thought it would be. It had been some time since he'd lost them both. It wasn't that he didn't miss them anymore, far from that, but with his aunt, and the Henleys, and Sugar, and Glee Club, he had been able to heal, to not ache so much. He hoped beyond anything else that, whether or not he told them this, they knew.

THE END

* * *

******A/N: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
****In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
************always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!**


End file.
